


Dead Man's Fingers

by PunishedPyotr



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Hallucinations, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Liquid be like. whuh, M/M, Mantis gets blueballed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:54:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22704274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunishedPyotr/pseuds/PunishedPyotr
Summary: Wilson would chide him for just rationalizing things to himself.
Relationships: Liquid Snake/Psycho Mantis
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Dead Man's Fingers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hingabee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hingabee/gifts).
  * Inspired by [basic mind](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13561914) by [hingabee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hingabee/pseuds/hingabee). 



> Happy Valentine's Day and also two yearssss ;D

When Mantis wakes up, for several long moments he forgets Wilson is dead.

It’s not that he’s forgotten where he is. This isn’t a case where his brain hasn’t yet caught up with being awake and assumes it’s an earlier time and a different place. Mantis knows perfectly well what he woke up to. It’s hard to miss waking up in the middle of desert halfway between Point A, where they’d killed a former insurgent, and point B, where they’d kill another.

The memory of Wilson’s death is clear but the feeling is absent. Wilson’s not dead. He couldn’t be. Mantis can feel him still.

Mantis looks back over his shoulder from where he is bundled up in the front seat of the shitty car he and Eli are using. Eli and his sleeping bag had rudely claimed the backseat. He’s sound asleep. It’s… nice when he sleeps soundly. Mantis sheds his blanket.

“What would he do to stop you?” he can almost hear Wilson’s voice rings in his ears, mocking. Mantis curls his lips. “Cry about it?”

“Shut up,” Mantis says.

The moon’s bright enough that Mantis can see Eli’s eyelids flutter as he stirs in his sleep. Fuck, he’s pretty… Mantis’ stomach feels unsettled. He feels like a predator and he blames it on Wilson. All his fault.

He reaches out. Of course after all Eli’s been through Mantis wouldn’t dare touch him in a _sexual_ way. That’s not what this is. He’s not asking anything of Eli now — he did before, though he shoved the blame squarely on Eli; but things are different now.

Wilson would chide him for just rationalizing things to himself.

Eli turns his face towards the source of touch, still not waking. As much as things are different now, Mantis still craves— _him_. Despite the fact that he’s found the temerity to say, “No, I don’t want this.”

“Or is it _because_ of that fact?” the Wilson in his mind asks Mantis.

“No,” he says.

Eli’s eyes blink open slowly - for the moment he doesn’t react to Mantis’ hand on his cheek. He makes a sleepy little noise. “Mm?”

“…”

“Mantis…?” he yawns.

“It’s nothing,” Mantis says, brushing his fingers back through Eli’s hair. “You looked so peaceful.”

“Oh… so, you’re getting all touchy-feely…”

He sounds a little amused, too tired to be bothered. Mantis swallows hard. It isn’t right — the way he _wants_ to be touching.

He can feel Wilson’s hands on him. Eli doesn’t seem to notice.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” Mantis mumbles.

“You’re being awfully friendly.”

“I didn’t.. I wasn’t doing anything.”

Eli places his hand over Mantis’. “Hm,” he hums.

“It’s just no fun if he wants it, is it?” Wilson says. “It’s too bad you caught himin a good mood.”

“Go back to sleep,” Mantis tells both of them.

“Mh… fine.” Eli sits up, though, and pulls Mantis towards him through the gap in the front seats. The kiss in unexpected and they both know it wouldn’t have happened if Mantis hadn’t, as Wilson said, caught Eli in a good mood.

Mantis feels as though he is literally on fire.

Wilson shoves him forward, turning a sweet, almost chaste little kiss into gracelessly mashing his mouth full of teeth against Eli. Eli makes a displeased noise, pulling back; Mantis grips onto his shoulders with blistered hands.

“Just fuck him,” Wilson says.

“Stop,” Mantis rasps.

“Mantis, what the hell—“ Eli starts - he pries Mantis’ fingers off him. “What was that for?”

“He’s got what you want. Take it,” Wilson says. “He won’t stop you. He can’t.”

“Stop it-“ Mantis hisses.

“Stop _what?_ “ Eli says. He’s confused, offended—

“Don’t even try to take the moral high ground here, agent, it would hardly be the first time you’ve forced yourself on him like this - won’t it?”

—threatened, hackles raised as Mantis climbs onto him. Mantis feels like he’s melting away crotch-first and he can see Wilson’s smug, fish-eyed face over Eli’s shoulder. And yet, the hands on Eli’s chest, tearing at his shirt - the hands Mantis is touching him with — those are _Wilson’s_ short, stubby fingers.

“What are you doing?!”

“I’m not doing anything… it’s not me…”

“Mantis, you can’t- don’t— what’s wrong with you-?“

Wilson whispers sick, wordless encouragements straight into Mantis’ skull. Mantis feels sick and so, so excited.

It finally dawns on Eli that yelling at Mantis isn’t going to make him stop. But he isn’t actually the ruined, whining cripple Wilson thinks he is; it’s well within his abilities to simply grab Mantis and bodily throw him out the back of the car. Mantis eats sand.

“You idiot,” Wilson says. “You sorry piece of shit. Look what you did. You fucked it up.”

Mantis clutches his head.

“Don’t you see what’s going on? Why I have to talk you through this? You’re too stupid to /earn/ that fat cock that he’s too dumb to use on his own, anyway. You get that, agent?”

“Stop… shut up…”

“Don’t you realize that this is why you never get what you want? Because you’re too weak to just _take_ it and you’ll never get it any other way. What a _disappointment_.”

Mantis looks up, finally realizing Eli had said something to him. Eli is looking at him warily, poised to defend himself again if necessary. He’s— scared. And Mantis did that to him.

“And you were too weak and stupid to follow through on it.”

“Eli,” Mantis chokes out.

“Are you… alright now?” Eli says, still keeping his distance, muscles still coiled, “you were having— some kind of episode. Talking to thin air and all that.”

Mantis’ eyes flick to Wilson in the background. Of course Eli can’t see him. Somehow Mantis still expects him to be able to. His thoughts are spinning.

Eli looks over his shoulder at Wilson. “Mantis? …what’s the matter?”

“I… nothing. I didn’t mean to…”

“Going to apologize, huh, agent? For what? Wanting him? Wanting a useless broken whore?”

He tries to ignore Wilson and mumbles something about sleepwalking. Eli accepts the explanation but is still wary. Shaken. He hides himself away in his sleeping bag and won’t take his eyes off Mantis until he finally falls asleep again.

Mantis, bruised, ignores Wilson’s encouragements and chooses to wait for the sticky uncomfortable swelling to go down on its own.


End file.
